I pushed my hands down between my legs and squeezed them tight, delaying. “She’s a really big fan.”
“Yeah, you said.” He gave me a smile. “Am I allowed to meet her or is she off-limits like your dad?”
“You can meet my dad if you want.”
“I want. We’ll take a trip to Miami sometime soon and I’ll introduce you to mine, okay?”
“I’d like that.” I took a deep breath, let it out. “David, Lauren told me some things. And I don’t want to keep secrets from you. But I don’t know how happy you’re going to be about these things that she told me.”
He turned his head, narrowed his eyes. “Things?”
“About you.”
“Ah. I see.” He picked up two handfuls of grated cheese and sprinkled them across the pizzas. “So you hadn’t looked me up on Wikipedia or some shit?”
“No,” I said, horrified at the thought.
He grunted. “It’s no big deal. What do you want to know, Ev?”
I didn’t know what to say. So I picked up my soda and downed about half of it in one go. Bad idea—it didn’t help. Instead, it gave me a mild case of brain freeze, stinging above the bridge of my nose.
“Go on. Ask me whatever you want,” he said. He wasn’t happy. The angry monobrow from drawing his eyebrows together clued me in to that. I didn’t think I’d ever met anyone with such an expressive face as David. Or maybe he just fascinated me full stop.
“Alright. What’s your favorite color?”
He scoffed. “That’s not one of the things your friend told you about.”
“You said I could ask whatever I wanted and I want to know what your favorite color is.”
“Black. And I know it’s not really a color. I did miss a lot of school, but I was there that day.” His tongue played behind his cheek. “What’s yours?”
“Blue.” I watched as he opened the gargantuan oven door. The pizza trays clattered against the racks. “What’s your favorite song?”
“We’re covering all the basics, huh?”
“We are married. I thought it would be nice. We sort of skipped a lot of the getting-to-know you stuff.”
“Alright.” The side of his mouth kicked up and he gave me a look that said he was onto my game of avoidance. The faint smile set the world to rights.
“I got a lot of favorite music,” he said. “‘Four Sticks’ by Led Zeppelin, that’s up there. Yours is ‘Need You Now’ by Lady Antebellum, as sung by an Elvis impersonator. Sadly.”
“Come on, I was under the influence. That’s not fair.”
“But it is true.”
“Maybe.” I still wished I could remember it. “Favorite book?”
“I like graphic novels. Stuff like Hellblazer, Preacher.”
I took another mouthful of soda, trying to think up a genius question. Only all the blatantly obvious ones appeared inside my head. I sucked at dating. It was probably just as well that we’d skipped that part.
“Wait,” he said. “What’s yours?”
“Jane Eyre. How about your favorite movie?”
“Evil Dead 2. Yours?”
“Walk the Line.”
“The one about the man in black? Nice. Okay.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “My turn. Tell me something terrible. Something you did that you’ve never confessed to another living soul.”
“Ooh, good one.” Scary, but good. Why couldn’t I have thought of a question like that?
He grinned around the top of his bottle of beer, well pleased with himself.
“Let me think …”
“There’s a time limit.”
I screwed up my face at him. “There is not a time limit.”
“There is,” he said. “Because you can’t try and think up something half assed to tell me. You’ve gotta give me the first worst thing that comes into your head that you don’t want anyone else ever knowing about. This is about honesty.”
“Fine,” I sniffed. “I kissed a girl named Amanda Harper when I was fifteen.”
His chin rose. “You did?”
“Yes.”
He sidled closer, eyes curious. “Did you like it?”
“No. Not really. I mean, it was okay.” I gripped the edge of the bench, hunching forward. “She was the school lesbian and I wanted to see if I was one too.”
“There was just the one lesbian at your school?”
“Oh, I suspected quite a few people, but only she was open about it. She gave herself the title.”
“Good for her.” His hands settled on my knees and pushed them apart, making room for him. “Why did you think you were a lesbian?”
“To be accurate, I was hoping I was bi,” I said. “More options. Because, honestly, the guys at school were …”
“They were what?” He gripped my butt and pulled me across the bench, bringing me closer. No way did I resist.
“They didn’t really interest me, I guess.”
“But kissing your lesbian friend Amanda didn’t do it for you either?” he asked.
“No.”
He clicked his tongue. “Damn. That’s a sad story. You’re cheating, by the way.”
“What? How?”
“You were meant to tell me something terrible.” His smile left a mile way behind. “Telling me you tongue-kissed a girl isn’t even remotely terrible.”
“I never said there was tongue.”
“Was there?”
“A little. The briefest of touches, maybe. But then I got weirded out and stopped it.”
He took another swig of beer. “Your ear tips are doing the pink thing again.”
“I bet they are.” I laughed and ducked my head. “I didn’t cheat. I never told anyone about that kiss. I was going to take it to my grave. You should feel honored by my trust in you.”
“Yeah, but telling me something I’m likely to find a huge turn-on is cheating. You were meant to tell me something terrible. The rules were clear. Go again and give me something bad this time.”
“It’s a huge turn-on, huh?”
“Next time I hit the shower I’m definitely using that story.”
I bit my tongue and looked away. Memories from this morning of David soaping up my hands and then putting them on him assailed my mind. The thought of him masturbating to my brief bout of teen sexual experimentation … “honored” wasn’t quite the right word. But I couldn’t say I wasn’t pleased by the notion. “Well, remember to make me older. Fifteen is a bit skeevy.”
“You only kissed her.”
“You’ll leave it at that in your head? You’ll respect accuracy and legalities, and not take it any further between Amanda and me?”
“Fine, I’ll make you older. And wildly fucking curious.” He pulled me closer using the hands-on-my-butt method again and I put my arms around him.
“Now, go again, and do it right this time.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He gave the side of my neck a lingering kiss. “You weren’t lying about Amanda, were you?”
“No.”
“Good. I like that story. You should tell it to me often. Now go again.”
I ummed and ahhed, procrastinating my little heart out. David rested his forehead against mine with a heavy sigh. “Just fucking tell me something.”
“I can’t think of anything.”
“Bullshit.”